Talk
by Bookman230
Summary: In the midst of Bruce Wayne being accused of murder, Cassandra deals with learning Batman's identity, and tries to talk to Stephanie Brown. Neither goes well. An expansion of sorts of Robin #98.


_A/N: Edited by the fantastic Professor-Piggy_

Cassandra Cain is not surprised easily. Honed senses. Master training. She can see most things coming from a mile away. Further. But not this. She had known of Bruce Wayne. In the background. Important person. Rich, philanthropist, playboy, apparently. But he never came up dealing with crime. So she didn't bother to pay attention to media. To public appearances. Stupid. Then she could've known sooner.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It's obvious, now. Money equals resources, yes. But more than that. Thomas and Martha Wayne. Good people. Models to live up to. Reasons to blame himself. The guilt she sometimes thinks flows through everyone in this business. It flows through him. She always knew that, of course. It radiates from his body. But here are the specifics. A part of her can't believe he… was ever not… no, he was always Batman, she can see it even in photos before… what happened. Curious eyes, strong and surveying. Dedicated to doing good deep inside, but not knowing it yet. He could've been like Thomas and Martha. A doctor, like Leslie. A philanthropist. Good work. But not the same.

She can't believe he wasn't always… dedicated to the mission. This mission. But after them… she can see it, in his eyes, in that newspaper photo. Crying. Deep, deep pain. But strength. The dedication to the mission. But there was a time before, and that stuns her. She had her time before. Oracle too. Azrael. She wouldn't be surprised if Nightwing and Robin did too. But Batman… she had somehow always felt that he always… was.

She had thought he was only Batman. No… civilian life. Not really. Like her. But he is… Bruce Wayne. Big. Public. Gotham… icon.

And she never knew.

Part of her feels like she… betrayed him, somehow. Finding out like this, not through a confession. But. Batman got himself accused of murder. Or Bruce Wayne did. So. She doesn't feel _too_ bad. But now… there's a new side of Batman she doesn't know, and it… annoys her. She doesn't know why. He is Batman. That is all that should matter. Yet…

...She'll check his Batcave. He was accused. A fugitive. Desperate measures. See if she can get some clues on the case. And that means she has to get intel on… Bruce Wayne.

Purely professional. Completely.

And she will not let Batman fall to this.

* * *

It's locked. She shouldn't be surprised. Got ahead of herself. She lets out a sigh of irritation. Looks for an opening out of habit, but… it's Batman. Very few openings. Then there'll be security. She would make it through, probably. But a lot of time. A lot of trouble. Not worth it. More important things to do. Then there's the rumbling of a motorcycle. Nightwing's? Robin's? No. Different. She moves into the shadow as she places it. Stephanie Brown's.

It's a long shot. But she might know something Cass doesn't. So she waits, in the dark. She expects Stephanie to slow down. But she doesn't. Cassandra tries to say something warn her, but… too late. She drives over the spikes, pops her tire, crashes. Not a bad crash. She should be fine. but her body language is tight. Irritated. And Cassandra wonders if it's still a good idea to communicate. But. She might know something. And…

Stephanie talks. With so many words, but it's okay, because her body talks too. Her body language is large, emotional, in your face. And the talking isn't condescending. Usually. It's just how Stephanie is with everyone, and in a way, it's soothing. The noise, as it surrounds you and you can just tune it to the sound instead of the words, to the rumbling in her throat. Focus on the body. Feels… nice.

...And Bruce Wayne is… social. Keeps up connections. Maybe… she should too. She steps out of the shadows. "Stephanie Brown," she says. Not the worst opener.

"You!?" Not the best response. Her body language is tight, angry. Ready to lash out. Natural. She feels out of the loop again. And she spots the cape first, thinks she's Batman. She stops, looks closer. "Batgirl?" She deflates slightly. Slightly. "Are _you_ locked out too? What's going on? Why's the cave sealed? Where's Batman?"

"Gone." It's the truth. And it's not her place to say more. Not until she needs to. But. She wonders. If Stephanie would get this… feeling. Of discovering this new side of someone. If it's what she felt with Cluemaster. But she can't tell her. Not right now.

"Well, thanks for _that_, miss monosyllabic." Mono… mono means one… and syllabic is… syllable? So one syllable… ah. Sarcasm. She's mad. Not what Cassandra was going for. Try harder. "He's gone. _Where'd_ he go? What's with locking us out of the playhouse? Is he with Robin?"

"Can't say. Not sure. No."

"Can't say because you don't know? Or because you won't tell me?"

"..."

Stephanie scoffs. "Yeah. Of course. And what do you mean, you aren't sure?"

"He's… Batman. Works alone often. Does things without telling. Annoying." She makes her voice light. Conver… conversational? Yes.

Stephanie just narrows her eyes. "Yeah. You're _so_ different." She doesn't know what to say to that. So she just lets Stephanie pick up her bike. Her anger grows. "Look at my_ bike_. He could have _warned _me. A phone call couldn't hurt, right? _Page_ me? _Fax_, even?" Angrier. Cassandra doesn't know what to say. But, venting is good right? Let her talk. "All I have is _you_ to talk to. Which is _less_ than useless."

...Oh. ...Makes sense. Bruce Wayne is a… different world. Social, talking. She's no good for that. All she has is her body. Why would Batman let her in? Why would Stephanie talk to her? She is just… Batgirl. And maybe she will be Batman one day. Wants to be. But she will never be Cassandra Cain like he is Bruce Wayne.

Stephanie walks by her, not noticing any of it. Cassandra doesn't blame her. "So I solve this little mystery on my _own_, right?" Her body is wrapped in vitrol and also resignation, belief that this is how it is, always was, always will be, and it makes Cassandra want to say _No, you're not on your own, you never are _but she fears it'll make things worse, that all Stephanie will hear are lies and pity, and she can't rearrange the words right. "At _least_ you could say 'Goodbye'." Saying nothing gets her mad too. She can't win. Never can.

"Goodbye," she says. Stupid. A vain, last ditch attempt to satisfy her. To show her she's listening, she's here, she can talk to her.

But Stephanie storms off, like a hurricane, a storm wild and angry and with something to prove, and she growls, "_Great_."

Cassandra stands there. Alone. Couldn't get intel. Couldn't help Stephanie. Not… her place. But. She can fight. Can always fight. There's always something to stop, in the city. Easy and sure, just her body against theirs. No talking, no.. failing. Her place.

She walks out of the cave.


End file.
